


Muffins

by Prazeodymium



Category: Original Work
Genre: Baking, Car Accident, Gen, Grief, Guilt, lose of a child, referenced character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-13 00:32:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10502724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prazeodymium/pseuds/Prazeodymium
Summary: A father in his grief bakes the recipe his daughter gave him before the car accident had taken her life.





	

The sweet smell of banana wafted from the oven as splashes of dark chocolate slowly dried on the counter. The sleeves of my dress shirt had been hastily rolled up and across the partially unbuttoned front were smears of hot oil from the popping bacon. Some where in the whirlwind of chaos my suit jacket had been thrown off to the side and my tie had found itself halfway in the batter bowl. Sweat beaded upon my body as I slumped down onto the messy floor in the stifling heat of the kitchen.

I ran my hands across my face willing the numbness that I felt to dissipate so that I might feel something from the previous events. My eyes were damp but not a single tear fell. Behind flickering eyelids memories of black suited people suffocated me. Even now I could feel their judgmental eyes burning into my skin, condemning a father who wouldn’t even cry at his child’s funeral.

But everything had been wrong!

Instead of the skies weeping for my little girl it had been sunny! A suffocating ninety-five degree afternoon. The cries of mourning from similarly dressed people around me were dampened as the stares of disapproval cut through to me from all sides. The funeral didn’t even have the option of being an open casket: the mangle of skin, bones, and bits of clothing being all that remained of my baby girl.

My hands found purchase in my hair and I pulled sharply. I could still hear the murmur of condolences ringing in my ears echoing behind the whispered talk about how everything was such a tragedy, how it was the ex-wife that took care of the proceedings, how it had been the father driving the vehicle, that the man couldn’t even bother to check if—

 _BEEP! BEEP!_ The beep of the timer on the oven went off and I mechanically pulled the sheet of muffins out from the heat.

I stood there, waiting for the muffins to cool, lost in my own home. I felt as if I were a stranger, the emptiness closing in as memories of my daughter’s laugh ghosted through and around me. My skin felt too tight, my eyes too dry, my body hollow and gutted.

The muffins cooled. I sprinkled the chocolate covered bacon on top before drizzling the liquid richness over it.

 _“Dad,”_ _a chipper voice, bright eyes that smiled to me through the review mirror, “have you ever had a chocolate covered bacon banana chip muffin?”_

_“I can’t say that I have.” I chuckled gazing back through the review mirror at the bouncing body of energy. Her car seat jiggling in a loose way._

_“Well our teacher gave us all the recipe can we try it when we get home?”_

_“Sure, baby girl.”_

_My hand reached behind the seat. Fingers grasped at crinkled paper. Eyes looked away from the road for just a second._

_A scream of tires, the too late honk of an upcoming car. The impact of metal hitting metal. My little girl’s scream._

Salty, bitter, sweet, I bit down. The recipe crinkled in my left hand. The sticky richness of chocolate coated my fingers.

I felt the wave crash over and the tears finally begin to fall.


End file.
